Life and Times of Mental Illness

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He Sat There, Defeated.

The building towered above him as he sat, defeated, on the sidewalk. He looked at its foreboding, wooden doors as they mocked his weak, malnourished body. Never once did it cross his mind to go inside, he was not a good enough man for that. At least that was what the fortress-like walls seemed to tell him. He wanted to move along, but his twisted ankle and empty stomach left him with little strength to carry on. So he sat, defeated, on the sidewalk being mocked by wooden doors and judged by the fortress-like walls. People walked in and people walked out, all of whom were well dressed and well fed. They scolded him with their eyes as they strode quickly by, trying not to trip over his frail body. Their pocket books were open, but only to the point of legalism and tithe. The poor man was not in their financial…